Checkmate
by Endless Depth
Summary: Screaming. She could feel herself screaming, but her words were drowned out. Savior. She picked up her knives, the retreating back of Edward behind her. The other boy was gone too. She needed to protect them, dream-Aurora knew. The girl was with her. Sacrifice. The girl saved her. Constantly. "You cannot hide. Game over, my friend." Checkmate.
1. Cheshire Cat

Author's Note:

I know this first chapter is exactly the same as the one in a story titled "Love Doesn't Break Easily". That is, for clarification sake, my story, but I have forgotten, not only my password, but the e-mail account I used for it. As such, I have reposted this story on my current account.

Thank you.

* * *

He blinked sleepily up at the petite girl sitting upon his chest.

"Hrmmuhurmph?" In simple lemming terms, it meant "Is it morning already?"

She leaned over him, the ends of her hair tickling his face as she grinned mischievously. She bounced once, still sitting on his chest, might I add, and hopped off the bed.

"Good morning, sunshine!" She sang happily.

He groaned, both in pain and denial, and turned over so that his back faced her. It was a mistake. Having not been watching her, he didn't see her devilish grin.

If I may, I'd like to draw your attention back to the first time she grinned in such a manner. I believe the precise wording was "she grinned mischievously". Now, let us continue with the story.

Not only having missed her easily-mistaken-for-a-smirk grin, he also missed several other things that followed. He didn't see her bend down and pick something up from the bedside table she so conveniently happened to be standing beside, until it was far too late.

She proceeded to unceremoniously rip his warm covers off his now cold body, something he most certainly felt, if not saw, and poured a cool, clear liquid, most commonly referred to as water, over his head.

As you can clearly see, such mistakes have dire consequences.

"Arghhuphluh!" was the indignant response to her actions as he spluttered, instantly awake.

"You." he pointed an accusing finger at her once he regained his breath and the limited amount of dignity he had left. "Come over here," the universal sign was made.

"I'm afraid I have to leave. After all, my work here has been very thoroughly completed." Her grin was quicksilver, and however fleeting it might have been, it left him with a warm fuzzy feeling that spread through his chest. Nonetheless, he could not allow her to get the last word. Well, he could, but as long as he had an excuse to follow her, I'm sure it'd be sufficient to say that he'd take it. Without a doubt, he'd take it.

He leapt out of bed, forgetting for a moment that he was was soaking wet. Of course, being the dignified male figure he was, halfway out the door, he realized his shirt was plastered to his body and the waistband of his pants was already starting to darken with the water. Therefore, the only reasonable course of action for him was to turn back and change, of course. After putting on his usual attire that consisted of black pants with white strips down the sides, a black, short-sleeved, round-collared thermal shirt, and simple Adidas running shoes, he ran out once more.

He hadn't realized that perhaps it would've been easier to find her before he changed, or at least gotten a glimpse of the general direction she went in. Prioritizing had never been one of his strong suits.

He chose to go right.

Making his way to the arena, he spotted Clarisse La Rue who had been teaching the younger children how to use a spear.

When he reached her, she grinned, giving him an affectionate pat on the head, perhaps harder than one deemed to be affectionate, but affectionate nonetheless.

"Ow," he muttered, although it didn't really hurt much.

"What's up?" she asked, completely ignoring his comment. She didn't mention the half wet state of his hair that left her hand a little damp as well.

"Aurora," he said, suddenly remembering his purpose for going to the arena. His cheeks coloured slightly. "Have you seen her?"

"Oh I have," she replied innocently. He waited for the punchline, and without having to wait long, it was there. "Several times, in fact. After all, we did have lessons yesterday, and the day before. I did watch her grow up, you know? Any time in particular?"

He could practically see the delight oozing from either ear.

"Today, this morning."

"Oh," she was still grinning. "Well... there was that time she went to 'wake you up'."

His face turned a peculiar shade of crimson. "Yes," he divulged. "she also sat on me."

"Ahh..." Her sigh was an all-knowing one.

Perhaps his face can then be described as a blood red.

"I'm going to go. You know, find Aurora," he muttered, gesturing in a general direction.

"Of course. See you later, kid." Yes, Clarisse La Rue really had gone soft over the years.

As he then continued his search, making his way to the armory, he stopped suddenly. Yes, he knew where she'd be. Spinning on his heel, he turned approximately ninety degrees counterclockwise and kept walking.

"Ah, you fiend, there you are!" His exclamation startled a laugh out of the girl sitting in the tree above him.

"Here I am. What are you going to do about it?" she teased him, knowing he lacked the abilities and the courage to climb the enormously high tree to reach the branch she was perched upon.

"I-I" he spluttered. "I'm not going up there."

"Well, then, I'm afraid I'm not going down there."

"That is of no matter to me," he sniffed haughtily, sticking his nose up into the air as high as it would go, and closing his eyes in a superior manner that just made him appear as a fool.

After a moment of silence, he cracked open one eye to look at her. Her side profile was neatly outlined against the dark green of the pine tree behind her, but, regrettably, it was only her side profile that was visible. She wasn't even looking at him!

"Why you," he stamped his foot indignantly, sounding like a petulant child. "I-I've never witnessed such impertinence in my lifetime! You should feel ashamed of yourself!"

"I should, shouldn't I?" She was definitely looking at him now, her grin as wide as that of the Cheshire cat. "Too bad I don't." She waved a hand in an unconcerned manner, still grinning.

"Well you should." Now he was just whining.

"Aurora," he whined.

"Edward," she replied, mocking him.

"Humph," he huffed, turning away. "Fine then."

He managed six steps before he turned back around. "Now, Aurora, if you'd just come down, I promise I'll fight fair."

She merely laughed.

"Alright then, have it your way." He pulled out his secret weapon.

"Now," he said, bending down to string his bow. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"How about I help you nock that arrow of yours?"

He blinked uncomprehendingly up at the girl standing in front of him for a moment, before releasing the lemming mating call.

"Arghowahphahhhmphahrmph!" he exclaimed indignantly.

"You sound like an oompa loompa," she observed.

"And, perhaps, I look like one too?" he asked dryly.

"It's only natural." She shrugged in a nonchalant manner.

He scowled playfully at her for a moment before sighing, a ghost of a smile adorning his lips.

"You're one of the only people I've met that I cannot beat in an argument," his tone was one of immense fondness.

"Hm," she replied. "That's probably why you're always talking to me."

"That and the fact that everyone else treats me like the plague."

"They just don't know you, Edward."

"And I plan on keeping it that way."

"Alright then," she replied with finality as they neared the Big House. "See you later." She lifted a hand, waving back at him in a three fingered gesture.

"Bye," he muttered, as he always did, lifting his own hand briefly in reply.


	2. Last Rays of Sunshine

She turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him. The corners of her lips turned up, her smile positively radiant as she looked back at him, a fifteen year old boy struggling his way up the hill she'd so effortlessly climbed just seconds before. Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle in the fading light of the day. Her hair, which was nearly as dark as her eyes, lifted off and settled on her back at regular intervals with the wind. She was beautiful, he thought.

He paused for a moment in front of her, catching his breath. The world seemed to go quiet then, only the sound of his harsh breathing cutting through the silence that'd engulfed them as it did so often nowadays.

This was actually the third time they'd gone over the course that day. They'd agreed upon best of three. The first time, he'd won, although he suspected it was singularly because she'd let him win. To her, the first run was merely a warm-up. After all, she'd easily beaten him on the next two.

Suddenly, she held her hand out to him, her eyes alight with the beginnings of an idea.

"Let's go swimming!" she exclaimed.

Her declaration was met with a blank expression.

"C'mon. We can catch the last hour or so of daylight," she explained, reaching out her hand further to grasp his.

He let her tug him back down the slope, his hand still firmly gripped in hers.

She laughed, clapping her hands together in delight.

"See, isn't this fun!?", it wasn't really a question. He scowled, the wind had already quite thoroughly mussed up his hair, making the usually fearsome look quite pathetic, at least compared to the delighted one Aurora was wearing.

"I don't dislike it." He paused for a moment. "I hate it."

"Aw, don't talk like that."

"But I want to," he whined, a playful frown now adorning his face.

"Don't whine either," was the response.

"But I want to," he whined.

"You're doing it again," she unconsciously pitched her voice higher.

He suddenly grinned, a small quick twitch of the corner of his mouth.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied, quickly putting on a straight face.

"You were laughing at me."

"No I wasn't," he was whining again. "It was a smile... ish."

"You admit it!" she laughed pointing a finger at him.

"What? No I didn't."

"You did."

"No such thing."

"You did."

"I most certainly did not."

"You did."

"I didn't."

You did."

"Not at all."

"What was so funny anyway?"

"No."

"No?"

"I mean," he fumbled for a moment. "No, I will not tell you."

"Alright fine. I promise I won't injure you."

"Okay. You were whining when you told me not to."

It took a moment for the meaning of those words to settle in. Inexplicably, they did, and, in retrospect, perhaps it was a good thing he wore swimming trunks.

"I only promised not to hurt you." she shrugged, crossing her arms and smiling in satisfaction. "Pushing you into the water is not technically injuring."

After a moment, she looked down. The water was still, not a ripple or bubble in sight.

"Edward?" she got a bit worried. "Did a spring wight get you?"

She looked over the side of the boat. Edward, who had been right underneath the boat all that time, giggled fiendishly. Subsequently, she did have some warning, if bubbles rising from the bottom of the boat was any warning at all.

He gave a great heave, and the boat tipped over, depositing Aurora neatly in the water, with a short, uncouth shriek.

"I'm going to kill you!" she screamed, once she resurfaced. Momentarily forgetting that she actually knew how to swim, she floundered, the miniature whirlpool she'd created around herself pulled her back under.

"Aurora!" His gleeful expression gave way to shock, and then fear, when her body bobbed up to the surface, completely motionless. He was quite a ways away from her, but he picked the strongest stroke he knew, being butterfly, and his powerful strokes quickly brought him within arm's length of her.

He reached out his hands to grab her by the shoulders, but she stood up a triumphant grin, that is, until she found his hands on her waist.

His cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she took a quick step back, splashing him in the process and his hands fell away.

Fighting for control of himself, he grasped the only string he could think of. "You splashed me!" he cried, taking her by surprise. "Water fight," they yelled in unison.

Thus, they spent the rest of the afternoon, splashing, screaming, and laughing at each other.

Back then, neither of them could have known that before long, the goofy smiles on both their faces and the soft wind tousling their hair would soon disappear.


	3. Confidential Familiar

He stood on the cliff edge, hands in his pockets. He was humming a tune as he watched the moonlight glinting off the silent waves of the ocean. He didn't see the girl who came up from behind him until she was standing beside him. He could just see her in his peripheral vision and he abruptly stopped humming.

She looked at him, her face open and guileless.

"What song is that?" He knew she'd ask. He'd been bracing himself for the question since he first saw her from the corner of his eye, yet, he couldn't seem to be able to keep the guarded tone out of his voice when he replied.

"Just something I heard once," his answer was vague. There was once someone he knew that would've been proud of him for not giving anything away in his cleverly worded answer. She would've grinned at him, poked him in the shoulder, and accused him of being a liar. She wasn't there, though, and he knew she wouldn't ever be. Not anymore.

"Alright," Aurora relented, although her eyes told him the conversation wasn't over.

"But, Edward," her voice softened. "You should go to bed soon, okay?"

If she hadn't said that, they both knew he would've stayed there all night. The harpies wouldn't bother him, nor would they even see him. After all, no one dares to bother a child of death, especially one who's seen far to much of it.

He gave her a terse nod that appeared as a harsh jerk of the head in the luminescent glow of the moon. She walked away.

Silently, he turned around, watching her go. When she reached the approximate halfway point between him and her cabin, he turned back around, his eyes finding the horizon once more. He'd once been told that if you watched someone you loved leave until they were completely out of sight, it would be the last time you saw them.

It wasn't something he'd ever believed, but after that time...

She strolled down the slope towards him the next morning, a song on her lips. It was a simple tune, but as she continued to get closer, he recognized it as the one he'd been humming just the night before.

She smiled as she reached him, without a break in her melody.

He blinked. It was such a familiar expression, almost, almost as if things had never changed. Their two other friends would pop out of the woods at any moment. One of them have her quarry, otherwise known as their next meal, by the feet, her bow in her right hand, and a quiver of arrows across her back. The boy beside her would be holding a stack of firewood piled so high that only his eyebrows happened to be visible.

Edward blinked again, and the phantom smile and eyebrows of his former friends, respectively, disappeared; in its place was the expectant gaze of Aurora.

"Edward? Are you listening? Do you agree?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, totally. I was listening. Of course I agree with you. No doubt about it." Fact was, he had not been listening, not a single word that left her lips in the past few minutes had been registered by his brain.

"Really?" She looked elated, giving him the impression that he had said the wrong thing. Happy, perhaps, but elation was not a common one among the stock of expressions the girl had.

"Um, sure." He did his best to stall.

"Okay..." The expectant look in Aurora's eyes returned. She waved her hands, as if the movement would encourage him to say precisely what she wanted him to. It did not.

"Um..." Realization dawned on her face; at least, that was what he thought it was. Edward was not given much time to ponder it as he came perilously close to death.

Aurora's hand came swiping down, millimeters from his precious face.

"My face!" he cried, pitifully, forgetting why his face had been in danger. "My face," he repeated, hoping that the repetition of the term would allow him a brief respite.

"Yes, your face," Aurora replied calmly. "That's exactly what I'm about to ruin, not that you can possibly get any uglier."

"Ooh, burn." A son of Hermes strolled by, miming the motion of putting a burnt finger in water and cocked his hip, grinning like a fiend.

"Good morning, Chris." Aurora momentarily paused, allowing Edward to breathe a sigh of relief. He had never been so happy to see Chris in his entire life...

"Oh, don't stop the beating you're giving him for me," Chris smiled sweetly, a wicked glint in his eyes as they met Edward's.

... or not. Actually, Edward hated Chris. Too bad he'd never been given the chance to smite the grinning fiend, not yet, that is.

On that sunny morning, with the birds chirping and water lapping against the shore, Edward started his day with three nice, long scratches down the side of his face and a scowl on his lips. He never did find out what Aurora asked him.


	4. Fallen Angels

Aurora fell asleep.

They'd been running through the forest for what felt like hours. She no longer could remember what it was they were running from.

With a start, she realized she was holding a pair of wicked looking hunting knives. The girl beside her held a gleaming katana in her right hand, and an identical one in her left. Japanese swordsmanship, she thought. It was someone she knew well, her movements were all familiar to her, like a well rehearsed dance. The girl's name was on the tip of her tongue. "Um." She started, but her lips would not move, the girl did not hear her.

There were two other people on either side of them, and as the canopy above them thinned, she could just make out their faces.

She couldn't seem to make out who the person beside the girl was, a boy, perhaps, but there was someone beside her that was all too familiar.

Edward.

He had his two longswords out, his strides even as he ran.

She wanted to talk to him, get him to explain who the other two were, but her vocal cords refused to obey.

They broke into a clearing, stopping and spinning around in a seemingly well-rehearsed formation. Here, they would make their last stand, together, for better or for worse.

The wind whistled furiously through the trees.

Edward turned around, locking eyes with her. He tried to say something, but his words were lost in the wind.

She gave him a confused look, but he just shook his head in return. He'd tell her later. She didn't think she'd ever known Edward this well. A single nod conveyed his message? Nope. As far as she was concerned, there was no such thing. In fact, everything up until now seemed kind of alien, so familiar, but nothing like she'd ever known before. Longswords, she thought again. Yes, those were Edward's chosen weapons. Dual-wielding, he liked that. The girl did too; the one who she was looking at, the one confidently making signals to her.

"Back me up," dream-Aurora whispered to herself. "We'll do a relay first."

Dream-Aurora signaled back. "Got it." The words were not spoken aloud, they were the meaning of the unfamiliar finger movement dream-Aurora made.

Something horrendous appeared at the edge of her vision. The images were scattered.

The boy. Yes, it was a boy, she could see him clearly now. He carried a broadsword. It was enormous, larger than she'd ever seen before.

Darkness. The girl disappeared into it, leaving her behind. Alone.

Hands. They reached for her, but her silver knives gleamed as she kept them at bay.

Screaming. She could feel herself screaming, but her words were drowned out.

Blood. Everywhere. The darkness had abated, leaving the wounded.

Dirt. She leaned against a tree, a hand over the wound in her side. The girl had blood running down the left side of her face, she was kneeling on the ground, using her katana to support her. Edward, blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, he was the only one standing upright, he reached for her, his outstretched hand covered in blood. The other boy was coughing, his blood staining the ground beneath him, and then he was standing.

Warmth. That of her hand in Edward's. His mouth moved forming words. The girl stood in front of them, her eyes blazing with anger directed at Edward. Dreaming Aurora wanted to be mad at her, but dream-Aurora saw the desperation in the girl's eyes, or felt it in her soul. Dream-Aurora's mouth moved, her hand squeezing that of Edward.

Savior. She picked up her knives, the retreating back of Edward behind her. The other boy was gone too. She needed to protect them, dream-Aurora knew. The girl was with her.

Desperation. She could feel it emanating from the girl, resonating within her.

Sacrifice. The girl saved her. Constantly. Gave her life for that of Aurora's. She died first.

A voice. The darkness spoke.

"You are the last one. Game over, my dear."


	5. Little White Lies

Author's Note:

Yesterday was my friend's birthday, and because I didn't have time yesterday, I'm posting this today as a shout out to her.

Happy birthday, goddessofshadows7212!

Anyway, you might be a bit confused regarding the Shadowhunter aspect. I figured I should make this seem more like a crossover from the beginning. Not everyone at Camp Half-Blood is a Shadowhunter as well as a demigod, though. Mostly just my characters.

Other than that, enjoy.

* * *

"Bloody hell!" He spun around, a product of his displeasure bursting forth. Edward fixed his most intimidating glare upon the person behind him. He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, genuinely ready to behead... a bunny? Yes, a soft, fluffy white bunny who was greedily eying the carrot Edward had snagged at dinnertime.

"You," he thrust his carrot forward, he little wave he did encompassing the little bunny and its surroundings. The bunny, in turn, widened its eyes further at the carrot.

"Bad bunny," he used the most patronizing tone he could muster. "Bad, bad, bad, bad". With every "bad" he shook the carrot, wagging it back and forth before the fluffy bunny. Perhaps he had meant to emphasize the words he uttered, but with every wag, the bunny's eyes only grew larger, its big brown pupils following the movements of the carrot, and with a single leap and a crunch, the carrot was one inch shorter.

Edward, gave a cry of despair, seizing the bunny by its furry midsection and shaking the poor thing violently.

"My, my. What did that cute bunny ever do to you?"

"Ha!" Edward was hysterical. "Cute!? Cute, you say!?" He looked up at the girl sitting in the tree, who, this time, unfortunately, was not Aurora.

If not for the Chuck Taylor clad feet dangling above him, Edward may have missed the girl wearing a black leather jacket, and short, dark jean shorts, as she so easily blended in with the shadows in the trees.

"Yes, cute." The girl replied patiently, as if speaking to a 5-year-old. "Spelled C - U - T - E. An adjective meaning attractive in a pretty or endearing way. It's commonly used to describe fluffy animals, such as the bunny you are being so cruel to."

Edward realized he had momentarily neglected the bunny he had been holding and now looked at it, shaking it once more for good measure. This was, once again, an error on his part. The bunny sprang forward, making him lose his hold on it, and, abandoning all pretenses, extended its claws toward his face.

It was truly a pity that Aurora was not the one in the tree, as the current girl held no sympathy for animal abusers, and even less for him. In fact, she watched with obvious delight as Edward's face grew even uglier by the second, the bunny having a vicious hold on it, and blood pouring from ten tiny, but painful wounds on his cheeks.

The girl, Shizuka, pulled out her phone from her back pocket, shifting her bow and the quiver of arrows across her back as she did so, and snapped a picture. Then, she proceeded to send it to all her friends. "A son of Death is no match for the Vice-claw Bunny" read the caption. And, yes, they did have phones. After all, Nephilim blood runs true, and Shadowhunters were very attached to their phones.

By the time the bunny had deemed its revenge substantial enough and left, Shizuka had a total of 50 pictures of Edward screaming like a little girl and attempting to pry the livid bunny off his face. Now, Edward lay on the ground moaning and clutching his face.

Shizuka, in a great display of sympathy, dropped to the ground, pulled her stele from her belt, and drew a few iratze on his mangled face.

"Thank you," he told her with all the pride he could muster after such an embarrassing ordeal.

"You're welcome," she grinned as he sat up. She pulled out a thin dagger and, in one smooth movement, speared what remained of the big juicy carrot and popped it, in its entirety, into her mouth, leaving Edward speechless as she then walked away.

"Laters!" She lifted a hand, waving back at him.

As soon as she left, he sobbed, the fingers of his left hand still shaped as if holding a carrot.

"My carrot," he mourned.

"My face," he moaned.

"My pride," he sobbed.

"Your dignity, more like it." Aurora came into the clearing. She had her phone in one hand, opened to the picture she received from Shizuka through a text message. "By this time, an estimated 84% of the campers would had already seen this, while the remaining 16% will do so in, approximately the next fifteen minutes."

Edward let out a wail.

Hoping to preserve even that small 16%, Edward reached over and clasped Aurora's free hand in both of his.

"Please help me!"

Aurora laughed, unconvinced. Of course she found the pathetic Edward displayed on the screen of her cellphone incredibly funny.

Edward proceeded to place his forehead on the ground in front of her.

"Please," he cried, hoping that if he relentlessly asked her for the next five minutes, she would help save him that little bit of dignity he had left.

"Fine," she sighed. "I'll say I dared you to use Photoshop to create this image and send it to Shizuka as a dare, okay?"

Edward laughed and cried at the same time. "Yes," he cried, sitting up. Joyous tears pooled in his eyes. Aurora rolled her eyes in an exasperated manner, but smiled nonetheless.

"Also, at the first sight of Shizuka, we run."

"If we're caught, we deny everything," confirmed Edward, and the rest of the day he spent with Aurora was surprisingly peaceful, well... sort of. True to their word, Edward yelped when a flash of silver, being the chain Shizuka had securely fixed on her jean shorts, and, together, he and Aurora ran for it. Of course, being a daughter of Boreas, Shizuka was not very slow on the uptake, easily overtaking the son of Hades, who was notoriously fond of having his two feet planted firmly on the ground, and Aurora, who had the misfortune of being a kind person who helped the aforementioned son of Hades.

Ultimately, quite a bit of begging and crying ensued on Edward's part, and quite a substantial number of little white lies were told by Aurora.


End file.
